


I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling

by 630Kame (Kame630)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Music, Song fic, When the pining is so strong it inspired a song, kind of, rick astley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 04:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20002003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kame630/pseuds/630Kame
Summary: Crowley is drunk and rambling about Aziraphale in a bar, but you never know when you're going to accidently inspire someone to write a song.





	I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when the discord group plays nothing but Rick roll for hours. Somehow we break out into Crowley/Rick Astley fics (mine may be the most sfw one)
> 
> Edit: they listened to nothing but the song for almost 12hrs, this was written around hour 2

" 'Sss not like were sssstrangers to it or anything!" The red-haired man slurred, having a tenancy to hiss when he got like this. The empty bottles of whiskey and half bottle of wine probably weren't helping either. "There's Rules! So many fucking _rules_!"

The young man laughed, tapping his pen against the page of his notebook, trying to come up with lyrics to a new song. He was drawing drawing a blank, and it needed to be done soon because the studio was already booked.

They had bumped into each other outside of the recording studio. He'd thought the man in the dark glasses had been a producer, but apparently he was just really close to a lot of the bands that recorded there. Somehow they ended up in a dark barroom, and the other was really putting it away.

" 'Sssssnot like he could get it from anyone _else_ ." The shouting stopped temporarily, for the demon to mumble into the bottle, having given up on using glasses while ago. "It'sssss a fucking _game_ . We both know what's fucking, hic, going on! Six thousand years. That'ssss how long. Six thousand, _bloody_ years!"

"Have you told him how you feel? Maybe he's too shy to say anything?" This conversation was giving him ideas, jotting down the odd sentence or phrase he liked. A song about a guy who's so in love in someone, and trying to make them understand. "Or maybe his problem is commitment."

" 'Ssss commited alright." Another long swig of alcohol. "See 'ssss problem is….he'ss such a prisssssy bastard! I'm not gonna give him up, im not! a.and he thinking im just gonna let him down, because hessss a godamn angel? I'm NEVER gonna let him down, Rick, I wont!" Crowley was swaying slightly, slapping the table to emphasise his point. "Not like I'm gonna dessssssert him, after so. Bloody. Long. Or anything…. Not gonna hurt him, by ssssaying goodbye… he's just fucking blind, to everything."

The alcohol seemed to be bleeding from angry to sad, and the young man put a hand on the man's arm. "I think you've had enough."

Crowley scoffed, but shoved the now empty bottle back towards the bar man. "Had enough of a lot of fucking thingsss." He complained, leaning his head back, and even though it was impossible to see under the glasses, closed his eyes to try and think. "Mmmm going home. Gonna sssleep it off. Good luck with your sssong, uh?" Apparently he'd already forgotten the younger man's name.

"Rick. Rick Astley. And yeah, I think I got a pretty good idea with this one. Listen out for it in the radio some day." A little cocky maybe, since he wasn't huge yet, but he had a good feeling about this one.

"Right."


End file.
